Geography is Destiny
by secretpixie
Summary: D/Jen. One's at NYU and one's at USC, but their friendship brings them together when they need each other.
1. Christmas Vacation

  
  
Dislaimer: They're not mine. Don't sue me. 

A/N: This fic takes place as an alternate to Season 5. This is my first fan fic, ever! Please, feedback is needed complimentary or constructive, I'll take whatever I can get! 

I've got a funny feeling   
The moment that your lips touched mine   
Something shot right through me   
My heart skipped a beat in time   
There's a different feel about you tonight   
It's got me thinking lots of crazy things   
I think I even saw a flash of light   
It felt like electricity 

You shouldn't kiss me like this unless you mean it like that   
Cause I'll just close my eyes and I won't know where I'm at   
We'll get lost on this dance floor spinning around   
And around and around and around   
They're all watching us now they think we're falling in love   
They'd never believe we're just friends   
When you kiss me like this I think you mean it like that   
If you do baby kiss me again 

Everybody swears we'd make a perfect pair   
But dancing is as far as it goes   
Girl you've never moved me quite the way you moved me tonight   
I just wanted you to know   
I just wanted you to know 

You shouldn't kiss me like this unless you mean it like that   
Cause I'll just close my eyes and I won't know where I'm at   
We'll get lost on this dance floor spinning around   
And around and around and around   
They're all watching us now they think we're falling in love   
They'd never believe we're just friends   
When you kiss me like this I think you mean it like that   
If you do baby kiss me again 

'You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This' -- Toby Keith 

_"Okay, go. Get the hell out of here. Walk across that lawn. Have a great life. And don't ever call me again."_

_"What, so I can confirm your worst fears about men?"_

_"Yes, exactly. Oh, wait, I forgot, we never slept together."_

_"You got five minutes?"_

_"For you? Always. ... We're all done here."_

_"Doomed to be friends forever."_

_"Sucks, doesn't it?"_

Chapter One

December 22, 2001 

"Okay machine, who's it gonna be? Me or you? I'm turning in this paper today if I have to bring this laptop to my professor and she has to grade it from the screen, so you might as well communicate with your printer and save us all a lot of hassle." 

A young man carrying a backpack stepped into the open doorway of a dorm room. 

"Yo, D. You coming to class or what? I wanted to stop at the cafe and pick up some coffee on the way. Wanna come with?" 

"No thanks Rob. I'll meet you there. If you see me carrying my computer, you know I've been beaten." Dawson looked up from his desk and gestured to the laptop with a sneer. 

"That bad, hunh? Well, I'm gonna get moving, I'll catch up with you after class." 

"Cool." 

The printer chose that moment to spit out a sheet of paper_._

"Oh, thank God. Now print you piece of crap. I've only got 15 minutes before class," Dawson spoke out loud as he quickly gathered together books and threw on a jacket. 

It was the end of the semester, and Dawson only had a couple more final tests and papers to turn in, before packing up and heading home. Christmas vacation. Friends, family... Joey. 

"Joey! God it's good to hear your voice, but this is the worst possible moment. I'm still printing a paper that's due in," Dawson looked down at his watch and swore under his breath, "10 minutes. I swear I'll call you back as soon as I get a chance. 

"You're what? At home already! That's not fair... Um, actually I'm not flying into Boston, I'm going to New York, Jen's gonna pick me up... Yeah, I'll be up for the holidays. Tell you what, I'll call as soon as I can to let you know what's going on, but I have got to go... Yeah, I need to talk to you too, it's been too long.... See you soon." 

*** 

"Yeah Jen, I'm packing right now... She said that we needed to talk... Yes, I remember what happened before I left for school. I hope that's not what our 'talk' will be about.... You're probably right," Dawson switched the phone from one ear to the other as he continued to gather things up for his trip home. "I just don't want to get into it. I've only got a a short time at home and I don't want to spend it analyzing. I'm gonna have to do enough of that to get this J-term project done.... I can't wait to see you either. You've been a tremendous help city-fying me," he joked. "No seriously, you've been great. I'll see you tomorrow at LaGuardia, gate 12g, 11:17am eastern standard time... Yes I know how to add 3 hours... Yup, you too.... Bye." 

As he gathered up his belongings Rob stuck his head back in the door. 

"You heading out already?" 

"No, not 'til painfully early tomorrow morning. Why?" 

"Well, me, Janice, Brad and Amanda are headed down to get some lunch. Coming?" 

"Yeah sure, just let me get my wallet" 

*** 

December 23, 2001 

"Jen! Over here! Hey, Jen," Dawson called as he hurried over to where Jen was standing. "Hey there, it's great to see you." He dropped his carryon so he could bend down to wrap his arms around her and raise her off the floor. 

"Dawson... Can't breathe... Let go..." Jen squeaked out. 

"Oh Jen, I'm so sorry. It's just so good to see you. I've got some great friends in LA," he paused and looked at her softly, "there's just something to be said about old friends. I guess I didn't really realize how much I've missed you." 

"I've missed you too. Too many cynics at NYU," she smiled and brushed his hair back from his forehead. "Let's get your luggage and a cab back to my place. Jack's already gone to Italy, lucky bastard. So you're stuck with me," Jen said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. 

They walked down the concourse to gather baggage smiling and laughing. Once loaded down with Dawson's luggage and equipment, they headed out the door to a sea of cabs. Jen went over and knocked on the trunk of one, to which the cabbie answered by popping the trunk. Dawson placed his baggage inside, and went to sit next to Jen in the back. She gave her address and turned to Dawson as they began to move. 

"You know...." They both started at the same time and then laughed. 

"You first, Jen" 

"Dawson, I just wanted to say that I appreciate you staying with me over break. With Jack gone and me needing to work over break, I was looking forward to microwave meals and movie fests." 

"Jen, you're the one helping me here. I'm not sure about the microwave meals, but movie fests we'll definitely have, both behind the camera and in front the TV," he winked at her. "Thanks again for your help with my project." 

"Don't thank me until after you've spent a couple weeks in my presence.... Oh, here we are!" 

Jen handed the cabbie some cash, and was out on the sidewalk like a shot. She and Dawson gathered together his luggage and trudged up the stairs of a brownstone that was probably lovely in it's day, but looked a little questionable now. She quickly unlocked the outside door and held it open 'til he could get all the bags in the little lobby. 

"Mine's on the 3rd floor, and no elevator... Ha, ha," she laughed musically. 

"Great, I have mentioned that I've been on my ass in a classroom for the better part of 4 months, right?" 

Jen circled behind him. "Ass looks like it's none the worse for wear. Work it up those stairs boy. Double time, we need to head out to Capeside ASAP!" Jen laughed as Dawson gathered up as much as he could and started to run up the stairs with enthusiasm. 

*** 

"Thanks for the ride, Jen. I'm gonna get some rest and catch up with my family. Tomorrow I've got to tend to that 'talk', but don't forget about the Christmas party tomorrow night." 

"Count me in," Jen turned to Dawson and gave him a reassuring smile. "You know how to reach me if you need to talk." 

"Of course, and I'll probably take you up on that offer before to long. Say 'hi' to Grams for me, will you?" 

"Absolutely. Catch ya later, Dawson." 

*** 

December 24, 2001 

As Dawson pulled into Joey's driveway, he pulled his coat tighter around his body. Closing his eyes, he took one deep breath and let it out slowly. He made his way to the front door of the B&B with long strides, wondering what he would say, but as soon as Joey stepped out the door his concerns were forgotten. Joey practically threw herself into Dawson's arms, where he held on tight for what seemed like an hour, but was probably closer to 20 seconds. Still, it was a little long for greeting a best friend home on break. He let go and found her hands with his own. They looked at each other quietly, knowing that this communication was more than speech could provide. 

"So." 

"So?" 

"How have you been Joey? How's Boston? How's Pacey?" Dawson asked about Pacey in a quite tone that spoke of both concern and skepticism. 

Dawson knew that Pacey had returned to Capeside shortly before the fall semester began. Joey had called him crying, wondering what she should do about his return. What she should feel. It was then that he realized just how much Joey had loved Pacey, maybe still loved him. It wasn't when she sailed away the summer before senior year, or when she chose to sleep with him, or even after the prom when Dawson could see her heart breaking before his eyes, could feel her pain. It was the fact that Pacey's return caused such a complete crack in the facade that she had been living behind since graduation. 

"Pacey's good, I think. I don't talk to him that often," Joey spoke quietly, not able to meet Dawson's eyes. "He's still working at the Boston marina fixing boats and sometimes filling in for a captain of one of the tour boats. He seems happy." 

"How about you, Joey, are you happy?" 

"I'm good. School has been great, but that doesn't mean I wasn't looking forward to vacation," she gave him her trademark grin. "I've missed you," she spoke, almost too quietly to hear. 

"I've missed you too, there's no one who could fill the part of me that you do." 

"Thanks Dawson. I really have missed you," she said again, at a loss for something else to say. Again they spoke through their eyes. 

Both realized abruptly that they were holding hands. They stepped back and smiled at each other with embarrassment. 

"So, Dawson, how're things with you?" 

"Good. Very good. I'm enjoying classes, and have made some great friends. Jen's been working with me on my city-fication. I really wasn't ready. Surprise, surprise," he rolled his eyes and smiled. "Actually, I meant to tell you..." He trailed off, uncertain how to bring up the topic of his short stay in Capeside. 

"What?" Concern creased Joey's brow. 

"Ummm, well, classes are good, but all gen-ed's. We don't get a real film class till at least Sophomore year. My advisor told me that I should expect a 5-year degree, depending on class availability, especially since the Seniors and Juniors get first pick." 

"And you meant to tell me this because...." 

"Well, because I was lucky enough to get a J-term film class. It's 3 weeks, by internet." 

"That's great Dawson!" Here eyes light up with the idea of Dawson staying in Capeside, rather than having to go back to LA. "You can stay here, maybe I can even help!" 

"Well, you're right in assuming that I'm not going back to LA till the end of January, but that doesn't mean I'm staying in Capeside." 

"What?" Her face fell in disappointment. 

"I've decided, after talking to my instructor, that I'm going to make my short in New York. Jen's gonna put be up for the duration. My professor, Dr. Cameron, felt that I needed more experience with the urban element. So..." 

"So you're leaving... Again... And I can't ask you to stay this time, either." 

Dawson nodded gently and touched her cheek with one cold hand. 

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, maybe you could come down and visit with us." Dawson smiled at her with hope in his eyes. 

"We'll see Dawson, for the time being I should get back inside, guests are coming tonight." 

"Tonight! But that's my parents' Christmas party!!!" 

"I realize that, Dawson. And I'll try my best to come by. I'm sure we'll get a chance to spend some time together before you leave." 

"Well..." 

"Well, I'll catch ya later." She stepped forward for another hug, this one a little shorter, a little stiffer. 

"Yeah, please try to make it tonight..." 

*** 

"So, we didn't really talk about anything. Actually, once we started talking, it got pretty uncomfortable." 

"What? I thought that she wanted to 'talk'? What happened?" 

"Jen, you know how uncomfortable things have been between me and Joey since Pacey came back. I'm sure that's what she was hoping to deal with, but I'm not sure how." 

Dawson stood up from his perch on Jen's bed and started looking through the CD's she brought home with her. More for a distraction than for the music. 

"So deal with it." Jen looked over at Dawson and sighed. "You guys can't keep avoiding the issue." 

"That's just it, we aren't avoiding the issue, we're avoiding each other." He turned and held his hands out to emphasize the statement. 

"Geeze Dawson. I just don't get it. Is it Pacey?" 

Dawson dropped back on the bed, sitting at the foot while Jen was leaning against the headboard. 

"It shouldn't be. I mean, they aren't even together. She said that she really doesn't see much of him." 

"That's a good thing, right?" 

"I guess." 

She looked up from the magazine she had been leafing through, and simply looked at him for a moment. 

"Do you still love her? I mean I know you love her, but do you _love _her?" 

"I thought I did." He turned his head from it's glassy stare at the wall to look at Jen, 

"Did? As in past tense? What changed?" 

"It's hard to say." Dawson avoided looking at her, unwilling to share his feelings. 

"Hard to say as in 'can't put my finger on it' or as in 'I know but I don't want to share'?" 

"You know me too well. You probably have a good idea of what happened." 

"Well, if you know I know then why not tell me?" She smiled sweetly at him. 

"Perhaps you are right." 

He turned to face her directly and closed his eyes for a couple seconds. She waited, not speaking, knowing that he would need to organize his thoughts. She could almost see him arranging a narrative in his mind. And the questions... Begin at the beginning, or start at the now and work backwards? Perhaps approach it from third person to add distance. In the end he realized that simple and direct would be enough for Jen. Good enough for himself. 

"I'm scared." 

The obvious confusion on Dawson's face cut right to Jen's heart. She just looked at him, knowing that he needed no prompting. 

"I've spent so much of my life loving Joey. I'd convinced myself that she was the only woman I'd ever really love. I mean, even when Gretchen and I were together, I still hadn't completely convinced myself that I was over Joey. So, what does it mean if I don't love her anymore?" 

Dawson had always had a streak of melodrama to him, so Jen knew that the answer to his question demanded much more than 'that you don't love her anymore'. 

"Dawson, it means that you are letting go of a dream that you had for a long time. In a way, you're letting go of your childhood too. Change is scary, and this kind of change is monumental." 

"I pinned so much of myself on that dream, and now I have to wonder when I stopped loving her. It's making me hate myself, like I've betrayed her somehow. Especially now, it seems that she needs me so much, and she's confused about why and how she needs me. I've managed to screw up our friendship yet again, just by kissing her good-bye. I don't know how to tell her that I don't love her like that anymore." 

"Just tell her. I know that it'll be hard, but it would be better to tell her. You don't know, maybe the reason why she's been so distant is that she's under the impression that you do love her like that, and that you want more than friendship. If you close that particular door to her, then her life may become simpler. It will hurt, for both of you." 

"You're right, I know you're right. But once again I'll confuse her and then leave. It's not on purpose, but it must feel that way to her. I'll wait 'til after Christmas though, I couldn't stand it before hand." Dawson sighed and ran his hands through his hair. When he focused back on Jen, she reached to him and placed a hand on his knee. He covered her hand with his own, noting how small and delicate she seemed to be at that moment. 

"Thanks Jen," he said quietly. "You've always been so understanding. I can't tell you how much your friendship means to me." 

Jen turned her hand over under Dawson's until their hands were palm to palm. She squeezed softly. She was surprised when she felt a tug on her heart. 

"Your friendship means so much to me. You were my first friend in Capeside. I hope that we never lose that." She squeezed his hand again before letting go. 

"Okay, this is getting way to deep. You want to get something to eat? Or maybe I should come over and help your family get ready for tonight?" 

Dawson stood up abruptly. 

"Actually, you just reminded me that I have to head to the restaurant and pick up some stuff for the party. I'll see you there. Thanks again." 

"Great, I guess that I'll..." 

But Dawson was already gone. 

"See you tonight," she finished sarcastically. 

*** 

"I'm really glad that you were able to get away from the B & B tonight. We don't get a chance to spend time together often enough." Dawson smiled, uncomfortably, at Joey. 

They walked across the room toward the Christmas tree. 

"I wanted to see you and your family. And make sure that Lily got this present. It's from me and Bessie." 

"Jo, you didn't have to do that." 

"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to." She smiled, telling herself to relax. 

After an uncomfortable silence, both Joey and Dawson looked across the room to see Mitch and Gail kissing while Gail had Lily in her arms. 

"Oh my God, Dawson. She's gotten so big!" Joey's eyes light up with happiness as she walked over to join them and say hello to Lily. Dawson followed at a small distance, giving Joey a minute to greet his baby sister. 

"She's so beautiful, Mrs. Leery. Can I hold her?" 

"Of course you can, dear." Mrs. Leery smiled at Joey, then looked down to Lily. "You be good for your aunt Joey, okay?" Joey could feel a lump in her throat as Gail passed the precious bundle to her. 

"Hi Lily. It's been so long since I saw you last. You've grown, and become even more beautiful." Joey was in awe of the little girl, barely noticing when Dawson stepped forward to join her. 

"Isn't she though? Every time I see her I love her more, and it makes it that much harder to leave again. I don't want to miss a thing, but I suppose that's life." He reached over to the baby and held onto her little hand. Immediately Lily curled her fingers around one of Dawson's. 

"Hey guys, say cheese," Gail said as she took a picture. "You two have to kiss now." She smiled, like only a mother can. 

"What?" Joey and Dawson gasped in unison. 

"Geeze, you _are_ under the mistletoe." Mitch put in. 

"Oh, well, I guess we should." Dawson smiled weakly at Joey. 

"Sure, I mean, it's not like we haven't kissed before." 

"Right, well..." 

"Well?" 

Dawson and Joey leaned toward each other slowly and kissed. Nothing more than a brush of his lips against hers. They leaned back again, enough to look into each other's eyes and chuckled quietly. 

"I guess that answers that question." 

Dawson let out a breath he had been holding and smiled brightly, blushing slightly. 

"I guess it does. Thanks again for coming Joey. I'm going to mingle a little, be good to my baby sister and make sure you find me before you leave." 


	2. Happy New Year!

Chapter Two

December 28, 2001 

"Meeting you after work should not be a problem. I was planning on hitting some of the bigger sites of the city today." Dawson walked over to the bathroom door where Jen was half dressed, curling her hair, and drinking a cup of coffee. 

"Okay, just be careful. You're not taking your video equipment with you today, are you?" 

"No, I figured I'd do some looking around first. Trying to make the scenes in my head before lugging stuff around." 

"Good, I want you to get a little more familiar with the city before you start filming. You want to go out to dinner after work?" 

"Sure, that would be a good idea. When you get a chance can you help me with the subway map?" He looked at her with both eyebrows raised in what could only be considered an expression of worry. "I don't want to look like a complete greenhorn." 

"Sure." 

Jen took the map from Dawson and pointed out what would be come a regular path over the next 3 weeks. 

"You see, get on the yellow b/d toward time's square, switch at time's square to the red 2/3 that'll take you to central park north. Once you're there I'm sure you'll make it down to the met. The green line isn't far, you can catch it to grand central station, you could walk over to Rockafeller center, or just head back to NYU. I'll meet you at the train station there, say 5:30, to avoid any confusion." 

As Jen spoke, Dawson's mind wandered a bit. He took notice of the difference geography made to Jen's demeanor. In Capeside, she always seemed so laid back, comfortable. In New York, she seemed different. More concerned about timing and appearance, and just a little off. 

"Um, sure. I think I've got it. Thanks a bunch, Jen. I guess I'll see you tonight," he said as Jen finished her morning routine, gulped back the rest of the coffee and headed for the door. 

"Be careful, okay?" 

"I will, I promise." He shot her a wink as she stepped out the door. 

*** 

December 30, 2001 

"Come on Jen, tomorrow's New Year's Eve. Aren't we going to do something?" 

"Well, _we_ aren't, but I have to." Jen let out a sigh. 

"What are you talking about. You're gonna leave me alone in a strange city on the eve of 2002?" 

"I'm sorry Dawson, but I have to go to my parents' New Year's Eve party. I'm kind of required, especially since I got to spend Christmas in Capeside." 

"No problem, I'll just come with you." Dawson stated, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

"Dawson, you don't want to come with me. First of all, it's mainly my parents' business associates and their snobby children. Second, I won't make very good company. And third... It's black tie." 

"Oh, come on Jen, it can't be that bad. Please? 

*** 

December 31, 2001 

"This is one of my closest friends, Dawson Leery. Dawson, this is Dr. And Mrs. Jamison, and their daughter Carly." 

"It's a pleasure to met you." Dawson stepped forward to shake hands with Dr. Jamison. 

"Friend? Is that so? Jennifer brought many 'friends' around when she still lived with her parent's. I see she hasn't changed any. Well, you kids have a good evening." Dr. Jamison turned to his wife and, placing his hand on the small of her back , led her toward another couple. 

Dawson stared at his back as he retreated, then looked to Jen, blushing. Jen looked up at him, sighing slightly, and shrugged her shoulders. After a moment, Carly followed in her parents wake. 

"This is why you didn't want me to come? Because your parents' friends would use me to embarrass you? I'm sorry." Dawson reached out to Jen, brushing his knuckles gently over her cheek. 

"Dawson, this is not your fault. Don't think that you embarrass me, because you don't. My parents' friends would have found some other way to insult me, it's not about you." She took the hand that hovered at her cheek, and led him away from the center of the room where most of the partygoers were mingling. "If anything, it's me who is embarrassed. I didn't want to suck you into this part of my life. I've dealt with my demons, but that doesn't mean I like facing them wearing a cocktail dress and a forced smile. If anything, you are making tonight bearable. Thank you." She squeezed his hand gently before releasing it. 

Jen smiled brightly at Dawson. "Now, why don't we get some champagne, as long as we are here we might as well enjoy the perks." They started walking over to the bar, smiling at each other in relief and understanding. 

*** 

"Come on Dawson," Jen giggled quietly. "You know that you really want Carly. She's been looking over at you all night. Why not go for it? Make your way over there so that when that ball drops you'll be lip to lip." 

Jen was smiling and pushing against Dawson's chest to try and get him to move. But her pushes lacked strength, and in reality, the hand on his chest was helping her to stay upright. Looking at her, Dawson could see the redness in her cheeks and the brightness in her eyes, showing that she was more than a little tipsy, and well on her way to drunk. Drunk. He'd never seen her drunk. In Capeside she had always been so concerned with staying in control and aware of her surroundings, but here... 

"Jen, why don't I just stay right here. I'm sure you'll give me a little kiss to bring in the new year?" Dawson flashed her his winning smile, and in answer Jen giggled. 

"... Five, four, three, two..." 

The hand that Jen had placed on Dawson's chest for balance curled around the lapel of his jacket and she pulled his face to hers. 

"Happy New Year, Dawson," she whispered before laying her lips on his. 

Dawson was shocked at Jen's forcefulness, but when she teetered, threatening to fall he put his hands on her hips to steady her. Before he was able register what was happening, they were kissing. 

Jen could feel more than champagne rush to her head as Dawson's lips played over hers. She heard a sigh, but couldn't tell whether the sigh came from herself or from Dawson. She slide her hands from his chest to the back of his neck, tilting her head slightly and pulling him deeper. Deeper, so that they were both drowning. 

Even while Dawson's tongue slid against Jen's. Even while marveling at her taste and her smell. He knew he should pull away. Slowly, so slowly, he eased the pace so that they were kissing gently. He leaned back and kissed her forehead before touching his brow to hers in an effort to regain his breath. 

"Wow." 

Gently Dawson released her and stepped back. He looked into her eyes, and saw the champagne clouding them. Sighing, he took her hand. 

"Maybe we should go home. Are you okay, Jen?" 

"Yeah, I'm okay, a little startled is all. I'm sorry, Dawson. I know that was my fault." 

"There's no blame. We kissed, that's all. No more, no less. Now we should get you home so I can ravage you properly," he joked in an effort to lighten the mood. 

She smiled back at him and followed him as he gathered their coats and said good-bye to her parents. 

*** 

January 18, 2001 

Dawson and Jen were sitting in Jen's living room. The VCR humming as it rewound. The only light spilling out of the kitchen. 

"Wow, Jen. I can't believe it's done. And with 3 days to spare. I think I might even have time to do some laundry before I head back to LA." 

"I'm so glad that you stayed with me, and, in my amateur opinion, I think your film looks great. Of course it could just be that I've seen it a hundred times by now. Who knew so much work would go into a 30 minute tribute to the big apple." 

The look Dawson had on his face was pure joy. Jen couldn't remember the last time he looked so happy. 

"Dawson, you have got to calm down, you look like you're about to explode." 

"So, you think the second version is definitely the one? 'Cause if you aren't sure, then we can watch them again." Dawson spit out the words like they were athletes racing to the finish line. 

"Dawson, chill. Number one, yes I'm sure that's it's the second version you should turn in. Number two, if you make me watch all five versions again I will have to kill you. Number three, exactly how much coffee have you ingested in the last 24 hours? You can't seem to sit still and your hands are shaking." She placed her hand on the leg that was tapping incessantly on the floor, as if to prove her point. 

"No coffee here. I'm running on natural speed, pure adrenaline. I feel like a kid on Christmas morning. All I want to do it turn it in and find out what my professor thinks. If she likes it then I might have a chance at an internship, or maybe to work with one of the upper-classmen on their senior project." He seemed like he would jump off the couch any minute and bounce off the walls. 

"I'm so happy for you, but you have got to chill out. You're driving me crazy. It's midnight, I know you don't want to sleep, but some of us need to." 

"Come on Jen, don't leave me hanging. I'll never be able to sleep now, and if you leave me alone I'll probably watch my film over and over all night. Then I'll be even more neurotic." 

"Dawson, I'm exhausted. My body's shutting down for the night, I need sleeeeep," she whined to him, leaning forward slightly while still gripping his knee. 

"Jen, you don't need sleep, let's go down to that all night coffee shop. Donuts? I know you love donuts. Please, please, please." He seemed like a little kid begging his mom for candy. 

"Yes, I love donuts, but no, no, no." She stood up and stretched heading back to her bedroom. Dawson leapt up and blocked her path. 

"Oh, come on. If you won't come out with me, at least stay up a little more." He tried the puppy-dog eyes, which evidently did the trick. 

"Okay, but we are not watching your film again. Pick something boring that I've seen a hundred times and I'll stay awake as long as I can. Promise." 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She just laughed at him as she settled back onto the couch. 

*** 

It was morning, and Dawson woke up to find Jen still asleep, curled up next to him on the couch. She had her arms linked through one of his, and her head up against one shoulder. He shifted carefully so that his arm was around her side and she leaned gently on his chest. He absently dropped a kiss onto her temple and leaned back to look at her. Surprised at their closeness. 

"Thanks again, Jen," he whispered. "Not just for helping me with my film, but for so much more. I wouldn't even know where to begin. I just know that my life would be very different, and most likely worse, if it wasn't for you." 

He let his eyes drift shut, thinking of her before falling back to sleep. As he drifted off, it occurred to him that his relationship with Jen had changed some, evolved if you will, during the time he'd spent alone with her. Even Joey noticed a difference in dynamics when she came to visit. They were easier together. They had a deeper understanding of one another. One that Joey didn't have with Dawson, since it was during the summer before senior year that Jen offered her understanding and support. And one that Jack didn't have with Jen, because Dawson had inadvertantly stepped into the world of her parents. Hopefully this bond would last. _No_, he thought. _It would last, he would make certain it did_. 


	3. Independence Day

Chapter Three

April 12, 2002 

"Jen, I'm sorry, I forgot about the time difference. Next time I call, I'll remember, I swear. But, just wait 'til you hear what I have to say!" 

"Dawson, whatever it is, can't it wait until morning? Maybe this time _I'll_ forget the time difference and call and wake you up at 5 am." 

"But, Jen..." He all but whined. 

"Okay, what is it." 

"Well, you know that the short that I did over Christmas break went over pretty well? Well, I got to talking to my professor, and I told her how you and Jack go to NYU and how you helped me with my project and with some of my, ahem, earlier work," he laughed at himself. 

"Okay, so? You're professor wants me, right? Since I do such magnificent work." 

"Not quite, Jen. Not that you aren't an excellent producer, a wonderful leading lady and a great provider of objective assistance with my ailing screenplays. But, when I mentioned NYU she told me that USC and NYU have a kind of partnership between their film schools. So, if I take classes at NYU they count toward my USC credits!" Dawson took a deep breath. 

"Oh, no. I think I know where this is heading..." 

"So, ummm, Jen. Can you and Jack do me a favor?" 

"Um-hum. Just what I thought." 

"Since you're both going to be there anyway, can I stay with you for a couple weeks over the summer? I'll pay a third of the rent and utilities and everything." His voice carried a hopeful tone. 

"Of course, Dawson. Did you already register for the course?" 

"Ummm, yeah." 

"Well then, why even ask. Why not just show up on our doorstep, baggage in tow?" 

"'Cause I need someone to pick me up at the airport?" 

"Funny, very funny. Now can I go back to sleep?" 

"Sure, sorry to wake you. Um, tomorrow's Friday, I think this is your week to call, when should I be expecting it?" 

"At five in the morning, idiot, when do you think." 

"Okay, I get it. Go back to bed, I'll talk to you soon." 

"Bye, Dawson." 

*** 

June 18, 2001 

"'Storytelling Strategies' and 'Film Theory', each two hours twice a week." 

"Sounds cool, you must be so excited," Jen said. She and Dawson were helping Jack rearrange the furniture in what was to become the 'guys' room. 

"I'm really glad that I managed to borrow this extra bed from Kevin," Jack said. Referring to a friend who was going home for the summer and, thankfully, left his furniture behind. 

The three friends continued to move furniture and help Dawson unpack in relative silence. Listening to the music from the nearby CD player, and communicating with one word sentences and grunts. 

"Well, it looks like I'm all set up," Dawson said, surveying his new living space. "Maybe we should celebrate! Where's the nearest Blockbuster?" 

This was received with groans from both Jack and Jen. 

"Come on Dawson, don't you ever get sick of movies? Let's go out. Jen and I like this little club over on 9th St. Care to join us?" Jack looked at Dawson raising an eyebrow in challenge. 

"Sure, change of pace would be good," Dawson replied, although he was certain this change of pace would not have been his choice. 

After changing and eating some dinner, they found themselves in a dark, smoke filled room, where a band was playing something that passed for music. They found their way to a table, and sat there together. After giving their drink orders to the waitress, Jack and Jen started talking about work, while Dawson took in the surroundings. People-watching was a favorite past-time for the aspiring director. 

"So, Dawson. Dawson.... Earth to Dawson." Jen finally snapped her fingers in front of his face to get his attention. 

"Hunh? Oh, sorry Jen. Just a little day dreaming. See that guy over there, the one in the green button down?" Dawson lifted a hand to point and Jack and Jen acknowledged the man in question. 

"What about him?" 

"It looks like he's nervous. I found myself building a story over why. Is he here to met someone? Is he avoiding a bad situation by being here?" 

Jack and Jen both considered the mysterious man with the nervous demeanor. 

"Maybe he's working up the courage to come over and ask Jenny here to dance," was Jack's input. 

"Maybe." 

The night wore on. Jen made Jack dance with her, and when another guy seemed interested, Jack came back to the table with Dawson. 

"Does she do that often?" Dawson asked. 

"What?" 

"Met people at clubs and dance with them. It makes me uncomfortable to think about, I could never be that forward." 

"Well, Jen's never been accused of being shy. But, it's really no big deal. She never does anything more than dance or flirt. We always go home together." 

Both Jack and Dawson had their eyes on Jen as she continued to laugh and dance. 

"She looks like she's having fun." Dawson sighed and shifted in his seat. "She's so beautiful." 

"She is." 

*** 

July 4, 2001 

"Thanks again for coming with me, Dawson. I don't know how I would face this alone." 

Jen and Dawson stepped out of the idling cab and into the luxury hotel where Jen's father's law firm was holding it's Independence Day celebration on the terrace roof. 

"No problem, Jen. I'm just glad that you trust me enough to ask me to come with you." Dawson smiled at her, trying to get her to do the same. "It'll be fine, just let it slide right off your back. Nothing that any of these people say or think is worth a second thought from you." 

"Here goes nothing," Jen said, turning her lips up in a confident smile, and taking the arm that Dawson offered her as they stepped off the elevator. 

"Why Jennifer, how nice to see you dear. I hope you'll stay a little longer than you did at the New Year's party." Jen's mother spoke to her pleasantly enough. It was almost possible to ignore the implied meaning of her words. "Dawson, isn't it? Surprised to see you again." Smiling sweetly, Mrs. Lindley offered a hand to Dawson, which he shook awkwardly. 

"It's nice to see you again, mom. Where's dad?" Jen asked pointedly. 

"Your father is off somewhere discussing business, as usual," she said brightly. Missing the snide tone of Jen's question. 

"Yeah, right." Jen turned to Dawson, "why don't we find a table and some hors d'oeuvres." 

"Fine by me." Turning to Mrs. Lindley, Dawson continued, "you'll excuse us." 

They walked away, neither of them realizing that they held hands. 

Later that evening, more introductions were made, and before Jen had a chance to protest, a son of one of the law partners was asking her to dance. He gave her little choice in the matter as he took her arm and lead her forcefully to the dance floor. Dawson watched with concern, Jen's expression was one of discomfort. As her partner pulled her closer, she tried to put distance between the two of them. Before long, Dawson found himself striding towards the dance floor. 

"Excuse me, I'm sure you won't mind if I cut in," he asked calmly. 

"What? Who are you? Go away, loser." 

"My name is Dawson, and you are?" He answered smoothly. 

"More that you'll ever be." Jen's dance partner turned to her. "Who is this guy, your most recent fuck buddy or something?" His voice raising as he stepped back to look at her. 

"Or something. Why don't you just leave me alone, you're not going to get anywhere, so find someone else to prey on." Jen stepped away when given the chance and turned to Dawson. He held a hand up for her, which she took graciously. They moved together slowly on the dance floor, aware that the recent exchange had turned many curious eyes to them. Jen looked up to Dawson, and, placing one hand on his cheek raised up on her toes to kiss him gently on the lips. "Thanks again," she whispered in his ear before she lay her head on his chest. 

Dawson took hold of Jen's upper arms to pull her back far enough so that he could look into her eyes. She saw the question in his eyes, leaned up and whispered, "Just for tonight. Just let me pretend." Although confused, he nodded and brought her back against his chest. 

When they walked off the dance floor, it was once again, hand in hand. 

They spent the rest of the evening quietly talking to each other and avoiding most anyone else. After the fireworks display, they remained on the balcony long after everyone else made their way back indoors. Watching the sky darken completely, and the lights of the city shine like the stars they knew were out. Stars that couldn't be seen in New York. Yet another reminder of the differences between Capeside and New York City. 

*** 

Later that night, the drive home was silent. Jen seemed lost in her own thoughts, and Dawson felt a responsibility to leave her in her reverie. His mind raced with questions, but he didn't dare to ask while Jen was so far away. A part of him knew that it wasn't all pretend, but it frightened him, understandably. 

_What now, _he thought as they walked up the stairs to the apartment. _Should I break the silence, or just wait until she wants to talk? Maybe she doesn't want to talk at all. Perhaps she just wants to go to bed, wake up in the morning, and forget that tonight happened at all. Maybe I should let her. _His concern and curiosity got the better of him though. 

"Jen, what happened tonight?" He asked quietly. She looked at him, but remained mute. He followed her into her bedroom, waiting for an answer. "Jen..." He continued. She turned to him, and with a sad smile answered. 

"Can't we talk about this in the morning?" She took his hand and led him to the bed. She took off her shoes and simply lay down. When he didn't follow, she looked up at him and motioned for him to lay down next to her. After a moments hesitation, he joined her, not knowing what she expected, but wanting to give her any comfort he could. She turned her body toward his, placed one hand under her head and the other on Dawson's as it lay on his chest. She exhaled quietly and closed her eyes. 

Dawson lay on her bed, unable to sleep. Staring at the ceiling and wondering who the woman beside him was. Who she had become. And what he was to her. What he wanted to be. 

*** 

Jen came into the dark room in a dirty, torn nightshirt. Her shoulders were shaking in an effort to try to muffle the sobs in her throat. He woke with a start, frozen for a moment. In shock. In fear. Then bolted upright. In two strides he was beside her, opening his arms to her. She fell into him and the pain broke free from her throat in loud, choppy sobs. 

"What happened, Jen. Are you all right? Please, tell me you are all right," he whispered while trying desperately to calm her. 

"I'm... I... Dawson..." The nonsensical words erupted, and the fear in her voice sent a chill directly through him. He pulled her back to touch her face and look in her eyes. It was then that he saw the blood on his hands. Blood that had spilled from her. In the light from the hallway, he could make out bruises and cuts all over her body. Her legs, her arms, her back. He swallowed the lump that came to his throat. 

"I'll help you, Jen. I'll take care of you. It'll be all right." The words came from him, but they both knew that he was lying. 

The tears continued to roll down her face, but her body had calmed. She dropped her head, looking at the ground. He saw the shame in her gesture, and put his hand to her chin to lift her face to his. It was then he realized that he, too, was shaking. He was sweating in panic. He led her to the bathroom, where he tenderly washed and bandaged her wounds. Then back to the bedroom, he laid her in the bed and brought the covers over her. The room was warm, but her skin was ice cold to the touch, and she was shivering. She pulled the blankets around her tighter so that only her head was visible. 

"Dawson, I'm cold. So cold..." 

He did the only thing he could think of. As she wrapped the blankets tight around the two of them, he felt her tears burn his chest and her cold, clammy skin against his. Her tears dried and her shivers subsided. She looked at him with eyes red and swollen and her face flushed, her skin glistening with the slick sweat of fear. He bent to reverently kiss her forehead, her eyes. His lips found their way to hers and swallowed her last sob. A sob of relief and release. 

Quickly the kiss turned demanding. Jen pressed against him with no regard for her battered body. Tongue slid against tongue, breath quickened, hearts pounded. Dawson could feel the roar of blood in his ears, blocking out all but her. The pressure of her lips against his, the hum from her throat that resounded as a vibration through his body. The urgent need to comfort and take comfort. To close out the world and forget everything but that moment. That rush. That pleasure. 

Gasping, Jen broke from his lips only to run her hands down his chest and follow the path with her lips and tongue. She heard him moan, breaking the placid silence. He grasped the back of her neck with his hand and brought her face back to his. He pulled her into an urgent kiss. The pleasure broke over them both like a flood. Breaking away again, he looked into her eyes. 

"I want you," he spoke, his voice raspy with need. 

"You can heal me, Dawson," she answered in kind. 

He trailed one finger down from her cheek, over her arm to her hip. He squeezed her hip and pulled her closer to him. His hand disappeared under her nightshirt up her back, careful of the bandages, and brought it along her side to caress her breast as it lay pressed against his chest. 

"Oh, Jen," he whispered. "Jen!" His whisper turned to a shout. There was no ragged breath against his neck. No heat pressed again him. No breast under his fingertips. Just emptiness. The cold air felt like a slap in the face. 

"Jen..." He whimpered. 

*** 

"Jen..." 

He woke with a start. Sweating, his breath labored. 

_Dream, it was just a dream._ He turned to find Jen sleeping peacefully. Her chest rising and falling rhythmically, her features smooth and unharmed. In a flash, he remembered last night and the confusion in his heart. He shifted in an effort to calm his heart and cool his body. Jen's eyes fluttered open and she looked at him shyly. 

"Morning," she said quietly, her throat clogged from sleep. As she looked at him, she noticed his pale face and rapid breathing. "Are you okay?" She asked quickly, clearing her throat and sitting up. She placed a hand on his arm and could feel the chill. "What happened?" Concern creased her brow. 

"Nothing, nothing happened. Just a bad dream." He fought to put a smile on his face and quiet his heart. 

"Dawson, it's not nothing to find you like this." 

"Jen, it was just a dream," he remarking, his voice growing louder with irritation. "I don't want to talk about it." He sat up in the bed and his face regained its color. 

"Okay, okay. Just calm down. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, relax. Lay back down and relax." She put a hand gingerly on his chest and felt his muscles tighten. 

"I've got to go, I need to get out." Dawson all but leapt out of the bed and dragged on his shoes. Before Jen had a chance to protest, he was out the door. 


	4. Confessions

Chapter Four

The rest of the summer continued much as it had begun. Dawson going to classes, Jack and Jen to work, and the three of them hanging out. On the town and in the living room. Only, Jen didn't dare ask what Dawson had dreamed about that caused him such stress. And Dawson didn't approach the topic of Jen's behavior on July 4th. Things were a little strained between the two, but improved as time passed. 

Jack could tell that something had changed between the two. He tried to get information from Jen, but she refused to answer any questions about Dawson. So, Jack tried Dawson. It took more than one try, but eventually Dawson broke. 

*** 

August 10, 2002 

"Come on, Dawson, spill. I'm sick of tiptoeing around this anymore. Are you mad at Jen or something?" 

"God, Jack, no." Dawson looked appalled at the suggestion. 

"Then what is it, I know something's different between you two. I want to help you too, but Jen's not talking either." 

"Well...." Dawson stood up from his place at the kitchen table and started to pace. "While you were in Providence over Fourth of July, something happened." 

"I get that." Jack rolled his eyes, then narrowed them, considered. "'Something'? You don't mean...." 

"No." Dawson whipped around to face Jack. "It's not like that. I'm not sure how much I can tell you, or if it would be possible for you to help, but here's the condensed version." 

Dawson recounted the story of their trip to the Independence Day party, and his dream the next morning. Leaving out some of the details about how Jen was treated by her parents and her parents' friends. 

"So that's what happened. I'm confused. That dream was so vivid. I know that it reflects my inability to help Jen with what she's going through, but how can I change that?" 

"That dream sounds... Vivid. That's for sure." Jack smirked a little at Dawson. 

"Funny," Dawson replied sarcastically. 

"Dawson, you're right. There's little I can do to help. But it seems that you can help. You need to talk to Jen. Whatever happened, it seems that she trusts you and needs you. Talk to her." 

"We'll see. She hasn't exactly been receptive to this topic, but I'll try." 

"Tell you what, I'll disappear tonight. With the two of you alone together, it'll be harder for Jen to evade you." 

"Thanks, Jack." 

*** 

"Dawson, this feels strangely like a set up. Jack's mysteriously disappeared. Here we are cozy on the couch watching bad TV. And now you bring out the skeletons in my closet for a show." Jen stood up from the couch and wandered around the room. Stopping at the window to look out at the street. "I don't appreciate this." 

"Jen, I'm sorry that you don't appreciate the way that I went about it, but you have to confess that you've been avoiding any sort of serious conversation with me since the fourth." 

"No, I don't have to confess, since everyone already knows. I've been avoiding this for a reason." She waited a beat before continuing. "I don't want to talk about it. And, as I recall, you didn't want to talk about that dream you had either." 

"No, I didn't. Still don't. But Jen, that was just a dream. It didn't happen. What we need to talk about is real." 

"No it's not, Dawson. None of it's real. The relationship with my parents, my happiness in New York, and least of all you as my boyfriend." As she spoke she walked toward him, stopping to stand between him and the TV. "You want to talk, then you talk. You were pale as a ghost and sweating bullets when I woke up. Talk about that," she exclaimed, then sat down on the coffee table so that she was knee to knee with Dawson, the challenge evident in her voice. 

"Telling you will be embarrassing and uncomfortable for both of us, is that what you want?" 

"Yes, that's what I want," she confirmed. 

"All right." He sighed and ran his hands through his hair. 

Facing Jen, looking at her for any reaction, Dawson told her his dream, in exacting, excruciating detail. As Jen's eye's widened with shock, he felt his back prickle with discomfort. When he finished she said nothing. The silence hung between them, loud as any siren. 

"You wanted to know," Dawson's voice trailed off. She continued to stare at him, her eyes showing disbelief and indecision. Finally she spoke, quietly, sounding like a frightened child. 

"That's it, Dawson. I don't know how, but that's it." Her eyes filled with tears. Tears that tore him apart with concern and confusion. 

"What's it, Jen? What are you talking about?" He moved forward on the couch so that he could grasp the hands that dangled limply between Jen's knees. 

"Dawson..." Her voice broke and tears began to escape from her eyes. "Dawson, you dreamt about my life. That was the fork that led me down this path." 

"Jen, I don't understand what you are talking about. That wasn't your life, it was just a dream. Please, just talk to me, I can't stand to see you like this." His hands released hers so that he could use his thumbs to gently wipe the tears from her cheeks. 

Jen brushed his hands away, running her own palms roughly over her face. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head in an effort to compose herself. 

"That hurt, scared woman that you dreamt about," she began calmly. "That was me, I was 12 years old when I was raped. Beaten and raped." She let out a shallow, shaky breath. Dawson continued to stare at her, not speaking, barely breathing for fear that Jen would close back up and walk away. When she didn't continue, he couldn't bear the silence. 

"Jen, that wasn't your fault," he whispered. 

"I know that," she pushed away from him. "Don't you think I know that by now?" Her voice raised in indignation. "But, I didn't know that then." Her voice was somber now. "The child inside me died that day, and I sought comfort by giving away what had been so brutally taken from me. My innocence." 

Dawson didn't know what to say. If there was anything to say. They both remained in the same positions. Dawson sitting forward on the couch, Jen on the edge of the coffee table facing Dawson. As the tension in the air began to fade, Jen's shoulders slumped and her head dropped. 

Dawson took her hands again, and pulled her toward the couch. Once she settled next to him, she turned, and began the story of her life. Dawson listened quietly and held her hand. 

"So that's what brought me to Capeside. My parents still don't know. No one knows, except my therapist," she laughed weakly, "and now, you." 

He looked into her clear blue eyes, depthless in their emotion. He pulled her close to his body. With his arms around her, he buried his face in her shoulder. His heart broke for the girl that was, and wept for the woman she had become. 

"Jen," he said, after his emotions had leveled. "I want to tell your story." 

"What? What are you talking about, Dawson?" 

"I want to write a screenplay about what you've just told me, and how you came to tell it to me. True stories are always the most poignant, and I think..." 

"No!" She interrupted. "Dawson, I told you this because I trust you. You can't use it for a screenplay!" She backed away from his embrace. 

"I know you trust me, and because I know you, and I care about you, I'll be able to write your story with sensitivity. Look, Jen, I really want to do this. I know that you are uncomfortable with anyone knowing what happened, but no one will need to know it's about you. Really, it'll just be me, you and my professor, if I use it in a screen writing class, and he wouldn't know who it's about. He'd never even meet you." 

"Dawson, I know that I can't stop you if this is what you want to do, you know all of it already. I would just hope that you have more respect for our friendship than that." 

"Jen," he sighed. "You know I won't do it if you don't want me to." 

"Thank you." She leaned over to him and placed a hand on his cheek. 


	5. Broken Promise

Chapter Five

August 18, 2002 

"So, Jen." Jack began, conversationally, as they both watched Dawson walk down the ramp that would lead him to his plane. 

"So, Jack," she replied. 

"Are you going to tell me?" 

"Am I going to tell you what?" 

"You know full well what I'm talking about." They both waved when Dawson turned around to smiled at them before boarding. 

"Why don't you spell it out for me, Jackers?" She tried to laugh off his inquiry as they walked down the concourse toward the exit. 

When Jack just looked at her with a raised eyebrow, she said nothing. They took the subway back to their apartment in silence. It wasn't until they were in the little kitchen gathering lunch together that Jack continued. 

"Jen," he began tentatively. "You and Dawson shared something special this summer, I'm not asking what that was, but if you want to talk about him or what happened, I'm here for you." 

"Jack," she sighed. "I know you are. What happened between Dawson and I was little more than strange circumstances and proximity." 

"If you say so. That's not what I saw, but then you've never been one to see what was right in front of you." 

"Jack," she said on an exasperated sigh. "What are you talking about?" 

"What I'm saying is that, regardless of how it came into being, you and Dawson have a very special bond. Don't let that go. Don't be afraid of it." 

Jen stood up from the table taking the two steps to the fridge. She opened the door, looking inside. For what? She couldn't quite remember. She felt panic stinging her throat. Shutting the refrigerator door she turned, empty handed. 

"I'm not afraid. Dawson's my friend. One of my best friends. Why would that scare me?" She looked at Jack defiantly, daring him to argue. 

"Yes he is. He's one of my best friends too. But I think the two of you could be more." 

Suddenly, her throat was dust. She held on to the back of the chair she stood behind until her knuckles were white with tension. 

"Jack, that's ridiculous." Her voice shook, betraying her. With a new found resolution, she sat and continued more calmly. "Jack, that's not what I want. That's not what he wants. We're friends. Maybe better friends than before, but just friends." 

Jack laughed, "a lot you know about what Dawson wants. That boy's probably more than half in love with you!" 

Jen just gave him an icy stare. Jack recognized that the topic was closed and decided to let it drop. He simply shrugged and shifted his attention to lunch. 

*** 

August 25, 2001 

Rob looked at Dawson a moment, sitting in front of his computer. He looked tired. He looked frustrated. Actually, he almost looked hurt. Like whatever he was working on caused him pain. It had been that way for the last 5 days. He got back to LA in time to sign the lease on their apartment, then he got behind the computer. Hours each day. Currently, he was leaning back in his desk chair, eyes glazed. Rob couldn't tell if he was staring at the screen or beyond it. 

"Hey D, hot Internet romance going on or what?" 

Startled, Dawson pressed the keys that brought up his screen saver. He pushed the chair out from the desk to face Rob. 

"Jesus, man. You look awful." 

"Why thank you for the insight," Dawson drawled in response. 

"What have you been doing holed up in here all week. I mean, classes haven't even begun yet." 

"I'm working on a screenplay." 

"Okay, so why the single minded fervor?" 

"I don't know. It seems like every time I try to concentrate on something else I come back to this. It won't let me sleep at night," he sighed and rubbed his hands over his tired face. "I figure I should just let it ride itself out." 

"Whatever. What's it about anyway?" 

"Ah, it's complicated." 

"I think I've just been insulted," he joked. Earning a grin from Dawson. "You don't think I have the sense of the acting majors that you'll use?" 

"Nope." 

Rob eyed Dawson with suspicion. "Tell me what you really think of me." 

"Oh no, Rob, that's not what I meant. It's just... Well, nobody's going to read this one." 

"What? Isn't that what you're going to school for? If you aren't going to use it, why spend all this time and energy writing it?" 

"Like I said before, I can't help but write. It's like I've got no choice. As for using it, I promised someone very important to me that I wouldn't even write it, let alone turn it in." 

"Um-hmm. Well, anyway. I was just coming in to see if you wanted to come out with a bunch of us. Dinner and a movie, your fave?" 

"Hey, thanks for the invite, but I'll have to pass. I'm sure this'll let me go eventually, so the sooner I finish it, the sooner I can forget that I wrote it." Dawson gave a weak smile before turning back to face his machine. Rob shrugged and left the room. 

_What am I doing_, Dawson thought as he tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. Focussing back on the screen he read... 

_Camera on Tasha, sitting on the edge of the fountain. The surrounding area is overgrown with vegetation. Her arms are folded in her lap as she looks off screen. Eric's voice is heard off screen, but the camera remains on Tasha.___

_Eric: Ready?___

_Tasha: Yeah. Okay, so, what's my direction?___

_Eric: That of longing, incredible sadness. Think about what just happened. The monster you killed is the man you loved. The victim of an experiment gone terribly wrong. Cut. And print.___

_Tasha: Was that a take cause I can do it again?___

_Eric: That was amazing.___

_Tasha: Sadness is my specialty. Should we do it again because..___

_Eric: It was perfect.___

_Camera switch to Eric walking toward Tasha, until both are on screen. Eric appears uncomfortable.___

_Tasha: Well, I had a good director.___

_Eric: And I had a good actress. So...___

_Tasha: So.._

He groaned, remembering that night. How ironic that he was writing a screen play around he and Jen. Well, actually, a screenplay about Jen that he happened to be in. He'd come a long way from 'Creek Daze'. It was hard to reconcile the boy that he had been to the man he hoped to become. Just remembering how closed minded he had been when he first met Jen was embarrassing. Just the first step into the tragedy that would become high school. 


	6. Facing the Past

Chapter Six

November 23, 2002 

Dawson could see Grams' car pull up to the house next door and Jen get out of it. He glanced down from the window to the 8 ½ by 11, brown envelope fat with paper. Then out again to follow her movements up the walk into her house. The envelope drew him, he knew that he couldn't put it off any further. He found his coat and slipped it on, not bothering with the buttons. He picked up the envelope, took a deep breath and closed the door behind him. 

The walk over to Jen's house was too short. He wanted so badly to see her, just enjoy her company and be happy. Instead, he knew what he was about to do would make her nothing but upset, maybe angry. He'd told himself that he wouldn't need to ever let anyone read the script he'd written, but it ate away at him. He had to show her. Not showing her would be as bad as lying. So there it was, in black and white, the story that Jen had asked him not to tell. 

The door burst open before he had a chance to knock. 

"Dawson!!!" Jen wrapped her arms around him with no reservation. It took a moment before Dawson responded in kind. Wrapping his long arms all the way around her slim body he buried his face in the blond hair that spilled over her shoulder. When he released her, he kissed her cheek before stepping back. 

"Jen," he smiled broadly, his mood brightened until he remembered the screenplay. 

"Oh, Dawson. How have you been? You finish the paper you were bitching about last week? What was it, something about silent movies, right?" 

"'The Relevance of Silent Films in Today's Media'. Yeah, it's done. How 'bout you? Midterms are now a distant memory, you get your grades?" 

"Yeah, they were posted right after I talked to you last. So far so good, if it weren't for that insufferable Political Science class," she rolled her eyes for emphasis. "Anyway, come on in and help me unpack." 

Dawson shifted the envelop from one hand to the other. 

"What's in the envelope? You want me to review your logic about silent movies relating to current media?" 

"Uh, no." 

She could see the discomfort in his posture. The way he took a short breath and straightened his shoulders. 

"Jen," he began. "I know that I promised I wouldn't, but I..." He trailed off, not knowing how to tell her. 

"Wouldn't what, Dawson?" Her voice sounded bitter, she already knew what was in the envelope that he laid on one of the porch chairs. 

"Just read it, Jen. I'll be waiting." He turned abruptly and left her staring at his back as he walked back across the lawn. It wasn't until he was inside his house that he let out the breath he had been holding. 

*** 

_Two days, _Dawson thought. _It's been two days since Jen got home._

__He was miserable. He was losing patience. He was worried. Dawson couldn't seem to concentrate on anything for more than about twenty minutes. He desperately need to work on his Sociology paper, but it was hopeless. Over and over again he considered going to Jen, but he knew better. It was up to her. An ugly little voice in his head kept reminding him that she may never come. It seemed that all he could do was pace. 

Jen, on the other hand, was throwing herself into a regular routine. Andie and Jack were coming tomorrow, so Jen was helping Grams clean and prepare for guests.They were making pies and preparing casseroles for Thanksgiving. Jen was catching up on her Brit Lit reading. Anytime her mind wandered to Dawson, she found something else to work on. The envelope remained unopened under a stack of school books. 

She knew she should read it, if for no other reason, then out of respect for Dawson, but she couldn't bring herself to. She was just hoping to get through dinner tomorrow night at Leery's Fresh Fish with Jack, Andie, Joey, and Dawson with some semblance of normalcy. Jack would be there soon, maybe that would help. 

*** 

November 25, 2002 

"Jack," she shouted. Jen burst out of the front door rushing to greet him. He scooped her up in a hug and squeezed tight. "Oh, Jack. I'm so glad you're here!" 

"Jen, what's up? You just saw me four days ago!" Jack smiled easily until he saw Jen's face. Something was wrong and he wanted to know what. 

"Hello? Over here. Don't I get a welcome???" 

"Oh, Andie. I'm sorry! It's been too long. How's Harvard treating you?" Jen gave Andie a brief hug before gathering her bags. 

"Great, you wouldn't believe who my English history professor is..." 

Andie rambled on as Jen helped them get settled. 

"And then the guy says, get this, 'that's my toad, hands off'. Can you believe that!" When Jen just sighed in response, Andie realized something was wrong. "Um, I'm gonna hunt down Grams and say hello. Jack, want anything from the kitchen?" 

"No, Andie. Thanks." He looked over at his sister with affection, glad that she realized he needed to find out what was up with Jen. 

"Jen..." 

"Jack..." 

They laughed at each other for a minute. 

"Jack, I'm really glad you're here." She smiled at him and some of the weight on her heart lifted. Jen walked down the hall to her own room, and Jack followed. 

"Jen, what's wrong?" Jack moved across the room to sit at Jen's desk. 

"It's about Dawson." She decided to go right to the heart of the matter. "He's done something that I asked him not to. Now I'm not sure how I should deal with it." She remained standing, hands on her bureau facing away from Jack. 

"How to deal with Dawson? Or how to deal with what he did?" 

"Both, I guess." She turned to face him. Her expression unreadable. 

"Jen, you'll need to give me more specifics than that." 

"Um, you know how close Dawson and I are, and how he knows some things about me that no one else does?" She moved toward Jack, taking a seat on the bed facing him. 

"Yeah." 

"Well, he wrote a screenplay based on that. On me." 

Jack stood up suddenly. His hands involuntarily fisted at his sides. 

"He had no right! That's your private life, he can't just market that to a studio or turn it in for a screen writing class!" 

"Jack, calm down." Jen took one of his hands and pulled him back to his seat. "I'm sure that no one else has read it. He came over Saturday and gave me a copy, he seemed like a wreck. I don't know exactly why, but I'm sure that he hasn't shared it with anyone, he respects me more than that." 

Jack looked at Jen silently for a moment. Cocked his head to the left. 

"You haven't read it yet, have you?" He asked. 

"No," she answered quietly. 

"Jen," he chided. "You have to read it." 

"I know." 

"I'll be here for you if you need me." 

Jack stood up and took a step forward to lay a hand on Jen's shoulder. She smiled up at him weakly. 

"Thanks," she whispered. 


	7. Patience

Though I haven't received much feedback since chapter 1, I figured I might as well post the rest since I finished it anyway. If anyone is reading, hope you enjoy it ;) 

Chapter Seven

November 26, 2002 

Jen was running out of ways to put it off. She had settled Andie and Jack into their rooms. Finished her reading. She'd gone shopping with Andie. Grams had banished her from the kitchen. It was time. 

She sat down to read on her bed. Propped up against the headboard with loads of pillows. Time passed quickly. She could tell, objectively, that it was good. But the emotions that it brought out in her were invariably different from those that would be evoked from an audience. It brought her sadness, pain, pity, and anger. She was about half way through... 

_Cue door opening. Shot of Tasha's father entering the apartment and placing a briefcase by the door. Follow him walking down the hallway into_   
_the living area. He's taking off his suit coat._

_Tasha's father: Carol, Tasha, I'm home._

_(No answer)._

_Tasha's father: Hello?_

_He continues through the living area, up the stairs. Cue 15-year-old Tasha and Dan (her boyfriend) laughing and talking. Tasha's father follows the sound. Camera cut to the bedroom door, open about six inches. Follow the door as Tasha's father pushes it open. Pan up from the floor to the bed, wide shot to see all of the bedroom. The bedroom is decorated lavishly so as to impress upon the audience that it is not Tasha's room. Tasha and Dan are laying in the bed, naked. The signs that they have been having sex obvious._

_Tasha (stammering): Daddy? I didn't realize... Why are you..._

_Tasha's father (astonished at first, then angry): Tasha! What is this! What are you doing? In my bed!!!_

_Tasha: Daddy, I can explain..._

_Tasha's father (coolly): There's nothing to explain. You're a whore, pure and simple. I've been able to ignore the other boys, the gossip that reaches my associates, your complete disrespect for me and your mother. This is it. There's nothing left for me to say to you and there's certainly nothing left that I want to here from you. I want you out of my house. That's final._

_Tasha's father retreats, slamming the bedroom door. Keep camera on Tasha's face to see the shock. She flinches when the door is slammed._

Jen could feel her heart constrict and her hands shake in anger. That day was so long ago, but the picture in her memory was made even more vivid by Dawson's interpretation. Her father. Her own father thought she was a whore. Probably still did, seeing as how he didn't know her. Had never known her. She took the script and placed it into the envelope. She knew that she had read enough. Enough to have her relive those experiences. And enough to know how Dawson saw her life. She stood, looking at herself in the mirror. She could feel the shame and hatred wash through her. 

Jen knew she had to cool off and decided a walk would help. She grabbed her jacket, throwing it on as she took the stairs at a run. Outside she felt the cold air slap against her hot face. She looked to her right at the Leery house and felt a pang in her chest cavity. _How could he think those things? _She started off toward the dock with the intention of sitting and staring at the water until she had calmed down some. It was then that she caught sight of Dawson in the very place she was heading. 

Dawson turned from the end of the dock and walked slowly back. His gaze lifted from his feet and he saw Jen. He brightened before he saw her expression and her determined walk. _She's angry,_ was all that he could think. He was scared knowing that it was something he had written that upset her so. He saw her crimson cheeks and hard eyes and remained frozen on the dock. What else could he do? 

"Jen," Dawson began, but was cut off. 

"Dawson," Jen's voice was low and even. "I trusted you." 

"Jen, you can still trust me. No one else will ever see the script, I promise." 

He took a tentative step forward, but stopped when he saw her spine stiffen and her eyes darken. 

"Promise? Well, that's just grand. You promise." She snorted in disbelief. "I recall you promising that you wouldn't write it to begin with." Her glare was unforgiving. 

"I'm sorry, Jen. I know I said that I would respect your wishes, but I just couldn't. Your story overpowered me. It was as if I couldn't **not** write it." His eyes plead with hers for understanding. 

Jen's posture softened momentarily until she remembered the anger she felt. Anger she needed to express. 

"That's a lovely sentiment, Dawson. It's flattering to know that my past, my painful, embarrassing past, fascinates you so. Can't you leave well enough alone?" 

Jen's voice began with a bitter sarcasm and escalated to distress. Dawson let Jen's words wash over him, staring at her. Refusing to let himself turn away from her icy eyes or angry voice. 

"It's been made crystal clear to me what people think of my life. My parents. Grams. And now you. You're still that narrow minded 15-year-old boy who can only see the world in black and white!" 

As she continued, Dawson could only stare at her. Eyes wide. His body tense, but unmoving. She trailed off, her anger spent. Looking at him she waited for his response. His denial of blame. Indignation at her accusations. But Dawson remained, firmly planted to his spot, not speaking. 

When Jen turned to go, he shook his head as if to wake from a dream. He placed his hand on her shoulder to stop her, but when she looked over her shoulder at him her eyes had him backing away. She stopped, nonetheless, refusing to turn and face him she looked over her shoulder at him. 

"Jen," he began quietly. "You didn't read the whole thing, did you?" He said it with both accusation and hope in his voice. 

She turned slowly to face him. 

"I read enough." Her anger was still apparent. 

"Jen, please. I know that I've broken your trust, and I'm sorry. But, please, if you trust me at all, even in the smallest sense." His voice betrayed him, shaking with fear. He swallowed before continuing. "Finish reading it." 

*** 

"Joey? It's me." 

"Hey Dawson, I just got in an hour ago. How're things?" 

"I'm all right. Listen, I just called to ask a favor." 

"Is everything okay?" Joey asked, concern evident in her voice. 

"No, but now is not the time to get into. The favor?" 

"Yes, of course. How can I help?" 

"You're going out to dinner with everyone tonight, right?" 

"Planned on it, but if you want me to come over or something..." 

Dawson cut her off. "No, nothing like that. Just send along my regrets. I won't be there." 

"But, why, Dawson?" 

"As I said, now is not the time. I'd just appreciate it if you let everyone know that something came up and I won't be there." 

"Not a problem. Please, if there's anything I can do." 

"Thanks. Have a good time tonight." 

Dawson hung up quickly, not wanting to avoid any more of Joey's questions. There wasn't anything he could do to fill the time. Nervous energy was eating at him, but there was no way to be proactive in this particular conflict. He knew that he had to wait for Jen to come to him. If she came to him. All he had was hope. 

Knowing he wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else. He gave up and read the screenplay. Again. Though most of it was already committed to memory, the process of reading the words off the page and once again searching for any weakness at least gave him some sort of focus. 

_Cue camera pan through Tasha and Derek's apartment, moving toward Tasha's bedroom. It's early morning and the sunlight is beginning to filter through the bedroom windows. We see Eric and Tasha asleep on the bed. Both completely dressed except their shoes. Eric is lying on his back and Tasha on her side facing Eric. Eric's eyes open suddenly. He stares at the ceiling and we hear his deep breathing. The camera angle switches to show Eric and Tasha from above. As the camera zooms to Eric's face it shows that he is pale and is covered by a layer of sweat.___

_Eric (outburst): Tasha!___

_He turns his head to face her and breathes a sigh of relief.___

_Eric (quietly to himself): Dream. It was just a dream.___

_He turns his face back towards the ceiling and takes a moment to calm himself. He moves his whole body to lay on his side facing Tasha holding his head up with one arm. He looks at her for a moment. The camera angle moves back to the side of the bed, again facing Eric. We see his breathing return to normal and color return to his face. He reaches out with his free hand to brush the hair back from her face. His hand lingers at her cheek. A sharp intake of breath comes from Tasha an instant before she opens her eyes.___

_Tasha: Morning.___

_She smiles at Eric, who quickly moves his hand away from her face.___

_Eric: Morning.___

_Eric is visibly uncomfortable.___

_Tasha: Are you okay?___

_She props her head up with an elbow on the mattress. Eric clears his throat.___

_Eric: Sure.___

_Tasha: Well you don't look okay. If something was wrong you'd talk to me about it, right?___

_Eric doesn't answer.___

_Tasha: I guess that's a negative.___

_She sits up and sighs.___

_Eric: Tasha, it's not that. I just had a strange dream. Even more so considering where I woke up this morning.___

_Tasha: You sure that you don't want to talk about it?___

_Eric: I'm sure. Maybe later?___

_Tasha smiles at his suggestion.___

_Tasha: Yeah. Later is a good time to talk about a lot of things.___

_Eric sighs through a timid smile. He closes his eyes and moves to lay on his back. Tasha continues to look at him for a moment, and then curls up again and closes her eyes.___

Dawson couldn't help but wonder what might be different if he hadn't run out that morning. It was meaningless to consider, but maybe he and Jen would be at that dinner tonight. Friends as always. Maybe she would never have confided in him. Perhaps they would have drifted apart. There was no way to tell, but Dawson knew that it was impossible to control his mind when it wandered down this sort of path. 

He stood abruptly in an effort to clear his perspective. He was drawn to the window. It was dark out, but Grams' porch light was on. Dawson shifted his line of sight to look out at the sky line. Stars were just beginning to show. Stars. Somehow stars had come to signify Jen over the past year and a half. Everything in his life seemed to circle back to her. Her sardonic wit and sarcastic laugh. Her unwavering faith in those she trusted. Her small, slender frame and heart shaped face. Oh God, he hoped that he hadn't thrown that away. 

_Soon enough. I'll find out soon enough,_ was the echo in his head. He held onto this thought and paced the length of his bedroom before returning to his seat in from of the computer. 


	8. Life Imitates Art

I guess this chapter might be considered NC-17. 

Chapter 8

November 26, 2002 

Jen sat alone in her room. The pages of the screenplay turned face down at her side as she read each one. She just couldn't bring herself to face everyone else tonight. She was sick of the situation and the only way to resolve the tension was by reading the rest of it. 

_Image change from flashbacks as Tasha speaks to the image of Eric and Tasha on the couch in Tasha and Derek's apartment.___

_Tasha: Eric, I can only imagine what you think of me now.___

_Eric: What I think of you?___

_Eric pulls back to look at Tasha's face. He places a hand under her chin to pull her eyes up and meet his stare.___

_Eric: Tasha, you know me well enough to realize that nothing you've told me makes me think less of you.___

_Tasha: Thank you.___

_Tasha moves away from Eric so they are no longer touching.___

_Eric: For what?___

_Tasha: Thank you for listening and not judging. Some people wouldn't be able to see beyond my past to the person I am now.___

_Eric: That goes both ways. I've done some really stupid things in my life. Some of them to you. And you've never held that against me.___

_They both laugh, breaking the tension.___

_Eric: Seriously though.___

_Eric reaches for Tasha's hand.___

_Eric: These experiences make you who you are. I loved you before you told me, how could I not love you after?___

_Tasha's eyes widen in shock. There is a moment of uncomfortable silence, then she swallows.___

_Tasha: You love me?_

_He loves me?_ Jen thought to herself in wonder. _No,_ her mind continued, _it's just a script. Just because Eric loves Tasha, doesn't mean that Dawson... Oh, God. Jack. Jack told me that he thought Dawson had feelings for me. What if he's..._

"I've got to know." 

Jen dropped the unread pages on the bed and ran down the stairs. She didn't give herself time to struggle with her own emotions. Action. Action was what she needed, not introspection. She paused at the door to Dawson's room and knocked. 

"It's open," she heard him call out. 

Stepping over the threshold she stopped, waiting for Dawson to acknowledge her. He lifted his head from the computer and stared at her. She remained quiet, so he cleared his throat. 

"Jen," he began with hesitation. "Did you finish it?" 

"No," she replied softly. 

Dawson's gaze fell to the floor. His disappointment clear in his gesture. 

"But I've read enough." 

He just looked at her, confusion creasing his brow. He struggled, wondering if he should say something, but the silence dragged on. He stood and turned to face her where she was standing just inside his door. She stepped forward. 

"Eric and Tasha," she began, stammering. "They..." Her discomfort was obvious. 

Dawson stepped toward her. She couldn't make herself look at him. 

"They?" He asked, encouraging her to continue. 

"They're... They... Well, Eric loves Tasha?" It was both a statement and a question. Sheturned her gaze from the opposite wall to Dawson's eyes. Eyes that never seemed to be the same color twice. At this moment, they were almost slate gray and completely focussed on her. 

"Yes," he replied earnestly, "Eric loves Tasha." 

She smiled shyly, a faint blush came to her cheeks. Dawson took another step towards Jen, close enough that he could reach out and touch her, if he dared.The air left his body when he was finally able to breath again. 

"How could he not?" This time it was Dawson's turn to blush. He felt the heat touch his face. His hands turn cold, their palms damp.He knew this was it, but couldn't force himself into action. 

She smiled widely on a sharp intake of breath. Stepping forward she raised herself on her tip toes to kiss him softly, quickly, barely pressing her lips to his. No other part of their bodies touched, and she retreated quickly. Her confidence wavered at the sight of Dawson's pure bewilderment. She stared at him a moment before pursing her lips and swallowing the lump that was rising in her throat. She made the slightest move to step back, but wasstopped by Dawson's hand on her cheek. 

"Don't go," he whispered. He brought himself to her so their bodies were touching, so close that they had to turn their heads to look at each other. His fingers were cool against her heated skin. But he made no move to embrace her. 

"Don't go." He kissed her forehead. So slowly he leaned back to look into her eyes again. "Don't go." He kissed the cheek that his hand wasn't caressing. Once again there was a pause. He swallowed, bring his other hand to her face. "Don't go." The words no more than a breath of air against her face. 

His fingers threaded through her hair, his thumbs resting gently on her temples. It was only inches and Jen could feel every heart beat like a hammer. Finally. Finally his mouth captured hers. Pulling gently on her bottom lip. Retreating, advancing. Retreating, advancing. In a flash hesitation and caution were gone. She moved her hands up his chest over his face brushing through his hair. Her force onthe back of his neck caused his kisses to bruise her lips. She didn't care. His hands moved from her face to rest on her shoulders. He squeezed them before running his hands roughly down her sides. They paused on her hips, pressing her closer to him. Her throat gave a soft whimper before she wrapped her arms around his neck and opened her mouth, an invitation that was not rejected. His arms snaked all the way around her so his fingertips lay on the side of her body clutching madly. His mind emptied as her tongue stroked his. Jen was the only thing. Her lips and teeth and tongue. The fingers winding through his hair. Her body, warm against his. Her hips, cradling his. Her breasts, laying heavily against his chest. 

Jen broke away from him and he looked at her in wonder. He followed her glance at the door, smiling when he noticed that it was wide open. He left the warmth of her body to close it. When he turned back around Jen had moved and was standing next to the bed, looking at him with uncertainty. He walked to her and took her hand and kissed her softly. They looked at each other, smiling. He noticed the flush of her face and her swollen lips. His hand released hers and moved to touch her collar bone, he could feel her heart beating in her throat.She could do nothing but smile as she took in his features. So familiar yet so different now.She took his hand and pulled him onto the bed.She kicked off her shoes and he did likewise. 

She could see his apprehension so she took action. She pulled his sweater over his head before removing her own shirt. His eyes swept her body, clad in her jeans and bra. Her reached out to touch the skin she had revealed. 

"You're so beautiful, Jen." 

Quickly he removed his T-shirt and brought her body back into his. He was laying on his back against the pillows and she was draped over his chest. She searched out his lips, the desperation back. Running her hands over his chest feeling the planes and the muscles. Impatient with his hesitance, she removed her bra and brought his hands to her breasts. He looked at her body in awe and watched her expressions as he caressed her. 

Their lovemaking was constantly changing from hot and desperate to slow and languid. He marveled at all her body had to offer and she watched him, delighting in his anticipation. He took care to discover every inch of her, grateful when she guided him and intrigued by her every sigh and gasp. When she could take no more, she raised her body over his and took him in. She sighed and leaned down to kiss him gently. He returned her kiss, forcing her mouth open. Their tongues and teeth and lips battled for control. He moved his hands from her face down her back to her hips and held her there as he rocked up into her. She immediately leaned back up in response. She moved back and forth against his pelvis as his hands slide over her flesh. She slowed her pace and brought her body back to lay against his. He touched her face and the kiss they shared was deep and long and sweet. He ran his hands down her back, making her shiver. They settled on her hips and she offered all the control to him, so happy when he took it and he moved her body in rhythm with his thrusts. She kissed his shoulder and neck her breath growing shallow. 

"Almost," she whispered to him. 

He battled with his own control until he felt her orgasm. The heat and vibration of her body throwing him over. She found his mouth again with her own, kissing him in lazy satisfaction. 

"That was..." He began, but there were no words. 

She pulled herself away from him and watched him shiver as their bodies lost contact. She settled next to him, pressing the length of his torso and holding her head up with an elbow in the mattress. Just looking at him, smiling at his expression. 

"Dawson." His eyes focussed back on her. "I think that Tasha loves Eric, too." 

"You think?" His grin was contagious, "maybe I should rewrite the ending." 


End file.
